


Lions, Dragons, and Wolves (Oh My)

by Fangirl_4Life



Series: Everlasting [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jon Snow is Not a Targaryen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-11-26 02:25:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18174584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_4Life/pseuds/Fangirl_4Life
Summary: Tensions between Lannisters and Targaryens had been steadily rising from the moment Lyanna and Cersei were given those prophecies all those years ago at Harrenhal. Now, with the Targaryen King denying the Lannisters justice for Lyanna's murder - war is just around the corner





	1. Hidden Lions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, welcome back to this universe everybody! To everyone who has been here from the start I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. To those who are just now joining, I cannot thank you enough for taking a chance on this story. I hope it's as fun of a ride as the last one!

The crypt was cold and empty, though that hardly mattered to Jaime as he slowly made his way further and further along. The tombs were all uniform and precise, the exact opposite of what he would have preferred. Although, preference hardly mattered in the lives of the Lannisters.

Jaime had been raised with order and discipline, harsh words and harder glares from his father. Oh, how he and Lyanna had tried their best to raise their own children in the opposite manner.

_Lyanna._

Jaime finally stopped in front of his beloved wife's tomb, the only one to have a statue beside it. It had been an odd request, the sculptor had given him a strange look but abided all the same. And in truth Jaime had picked the proper sculptor, for the resemblance to his late wife was uncanny. From the styling of her raven curls to the lines around her eyes and lips from laughter, it was clear who this statue was meant to be.

He tentatively reached a hand out to stroke her cheek, the marble a grim reminder of all he had lost because of his own blood. The Lady of House Lannister and mother to his children - the woman who took his heart and offered her own in return for little more than his promise of honesty and fidelity. The ice that cooled the summer heat and the fire that kept him joyful throughout the years. A woman of myths and legends gone far too soon. And all because of his nephew. 

"What am I to do without you, love?" Jaime whispered, fingers gently touching the marble cheek. "Jon has children of his own, Joanna is married in the Vale, Cyrenna is with child. You were supposed to see these things, my love."

Reluctantly, Jaine dropped his hand as he heard footsteps echo down the crypt corridor. It wasn't hard to deduce who would be beside him in just a few moments.

"You truly cared for her, Lannister." Brandon's deep voice boomed in the quiet night. "I rarely received letters of her complaining. It was rare for Lya to not complain."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that." Jaime let out a hollow laugh.

"Another letter arrived. The  _king_ wishes to know if you or your children will attend." Brandon's voice dripped with venom.

No one in Casterly Rock spoke the kings name. It was hard to keep Brandon and Jaime's tempers in check if the name was uttered. Jon and Benjen were no better. And Daenerys. Poor Daenerys. The girl couldn't spend more than a few minutes with her children before feeling guilty of what her nephew did to the Lannisters.

"Tyrion will represent Casterly Rock and House Lannister," Jaime said. "I won't risk my family to appease him."

"A bold move." Brandon took a step close to the statue. "I never realized just how much time had passed. She was but six and ten when you married. Jon was born a year later. And now he's married with children."

"She left us too soon." Jaime remembered her bright smile and loud laugh. The laugh that would ring through the halls and make proper Southron lords and ladies nervous by how carefree it was.

"No matter when she would have left, it would've been too soon." Brandon took a deep breath and stepped back. "But in my mind she'll always be the little girl running about Winterfell and sparring against our father's wishes. I remember her scrapping knees and tearing dresses. Mother could hardly be mad at her."

Jaime stared at the statue and tried to think of how Lyanna was when they first met at Harrenhal. Young and beautiful and willful. Her glare was a prominent feature of her face until Jon had been born. Then the smiles broke through. And when they had the girls...

Jaime had always sworn he'd never love anyone more than Cersei when he was young. But holding his daughters when they were but babes, that was what made him realize he truly loved Lyanna. Of course he loved Jon. But holding Joanna and Cyrenna. Seeing how small they were. Knowing no man would ever be worthy of them. Gods, how had he ever agreed to let a Tyrell and an Arryn marry them? Even the Targayens were not good enough for his baby girls. And little Serra, the youngest lady who'd never know Lya, was better than any option that would be presented.

"How are Cyrenna and Joanna?" Brandon asked. "Any news?"

"Joanna is fine. And if Cyrenna has plans," Jaime let out a small huff laughter. "She certainly won't be sharing them with me."

* * *

Cyrenna had not been a fan of the wheelhouse. In truth she'd always despised them, preferring to ride alongside her family for journeys. But as she was swelling with child, the wheelhouse was mandatory.

Margaery sat beside her and helped her through the long days, something that Cyrenna both was grateful for and apprehensive of. Margaery was one of the best minds Cyrenna had ever come across, perhaps even better at her scheming and politicking than Cyrenna or Tywin. And for that fact alone every action Margaery did was no doubt to boost her image and get further along.

But there was also something sincere about the woman that made Cyrenna relax and trust her. Margaery may be a player, but she never tried to actively make Cyrenna even the slightest bit uncomfortable since she'd arrived in Highgarden.

"Are you certain the babe isn't causing too much trouble?" Margaery asked. "If so, you need only say and we can go to the castle right away."

"I've already told you," Cyrenna gave the quietest sigh possible. "I'm feeling fine. This is something you've been speaking of doing even before we left Highgarden. I see no reason to hold you back."

"Your health is more important." Margaery gave her a sincere look. "I can always find other times, but you need rest."

"I've tested plenty." Cyrenna placed a hand gently upon her swollen stomach.

It had been a dangerous gamble to travel all the way to King's Landing as she neared closer to birthing bed. But at nearly six months along, the babe had given her no trouble. She hardly even suffered from mothers stomach the first few months. It was almost as if her unborn child knew the dangerous position she was in and was purposefully keeping on it's best behavior.

"Besides, I agree that this is important." Cyrenna looked out the window as they neared the gates to King's Landing. "The people will need hope in the coming months. Who better to give it to them than you."

* * *

Lyonel was always pleasantly surprised when he was able to sneak out of the Red Keep without notice. It was an even better victory in his mind when he was able to take Jaehaerys along with him. It was a rather simple trick that Myrcella always discouraged, but she was off in Winterfell. Safe from father and Aemon's tempers.

He'd stolen some dirty clothes from coal boys and rubbed dirt and soot from fireplaces all over himself and Jae, taking extra care to dirty their hair and faces. It was easy to make their sunshine curls appear as a dirty blonde, close to brown even if they had enough dirt. But it was Jae's eyes that were always hard to hide. The very reason Lyonel always told him to keep his eyes trained to the ground. Amethyst eyes were not common.

"Can we stop by the nice ladies who give me bread?" Jaehaerys asked, tugging on the too large shirt sleeve Lyonel wore.

"I doubt they have much bread to give, but they always tell nice stories." Lyonel took them down the well known path to the orphanage.

"What if they talk about-"

Lyonel turned to see his brother's silence was caused by the wheelhouse that sat not too far away from Flea Bottom. The golden rose on the door signaled the Tyrells were nearby.

"We have to go see them now!" Jaehaerys said, tugging harder on the sleeve. "Please, Ly, please."

Lyonel turned to see wide purple eyes filled with excitement and happiness, a rare feat indeed. He bit his lip before turning and saying, "Only if you remember to look at the ground."

Jaehaerys pouted before nodding and training his vibrant eyes to the dirt.

The pair walked by slowly and cautiously entered the orphanage only to stop when they saw what was inside. Just as Lyonel had suspected a Tyrell was there. Margaery was sitting on the ground talking to the children while handmaidens passed four bread and blankets to those inside. But that wasn't what caught Lyonel's eyes. No, because just off to the side listening intently as the woman who ran the orphanage spoke was none other than Cyrenna Lannister.

Her gray eyes surveyed the children and then latched onto Lyonel. She smiled the tiniest bit and turned back to the woman before carefully approaching Lyonel and Jaehaerys.

She knelt down carefully to smile at Jaehaerys.

"Well, I wasn't expecting family to greet me here." Her voice was quiet enough that only the three of them would hear. "I must say, it's far more welcoming than I ever thought."

"You won't tell, will you?" Lyonel watched her carefully.

How could his mother say she wasn't a Lannister? Even her Stark eyes held Lannister intelligence and mischief in them.

"And spoil your fun? I would never."

At that Jaehaerys risked looking up and felt his world shift. The woman kneeling before him was possibly the most beautiful in all the world. Golden curls that matched his own and gray eyes that held a spark he'd never seen before.

"Thank you." Lyonel smiled up at her.

"No need to thank me. But my trip here is coming to a swift end and I know for a fact you're supposed to greet me alongside your siblings." Cyrenna handed them a roll of bread. "I'd hurry back and bathe as best you can. I'd hate for you to get in trouble with your parents."

Lyonel nodded and grabbed Jae's hand tightly. "We'll see you soon then."

"I surely hope so." Cyrenna stood gracefully and turned back to the woman she'd been speaking to previously.

"Come on, Jae," Lyonel turned them around and hurried out. "We need to be presentable for our cousin."

* * *

Myrcella hadn't worn red or black since the night of the wedding, nor had see put on a stitch of gold and crimson. Once she'd seen her mother and father leave Winterfell she had a new wardrobe constructed. All muted blues and purples and greens in the soft wool of the Northern style. She'd even taken to styling her hair in a simplistic Northern braid that mirrored Lady Catelyn's.

There was no subtlety in her actions, but there wasn't meant to be. If she was to stay safe and keep her status as hostage in the furthest reaches of everyone's minds, it was best to distance herself from her family. After all, she'd been planning on doing so long before her brother murdered their aunt.

Of course only Lady Catelyn was willing to approach Myrcella not too long after the raven arrived with news of her siblings wedding.

"Lady Catelyn," Myrcella bowed her head as she entered the solar she shared with Lord Eddard.

"There's no need for that, Myrcella." Catelyn gave a soft smile, though Myrcella could see the slight strain to it. "Please sit."

Myrcella choose the seat furthest from the roaring fireplace. It was already tricky enough to keep her dragon egg hidden in her chambers. Any sign of her pull towards heat and flames had to be squashed. She couldn't let the Starks do anything rash because of her own family.

"I'm sure you've received a letter from your father as well," Catelyn said.

"I have." Myrcella nodded. "But I know it would be best for me not to make any requests to go South. It would not do well for your family to get tangled into my owns whims."

Catelyn raised her brow. "You seem to be quite content to say in Winterfell."

"It is best for us all, isn't it?" Mycrella tried her best not to fiddle with her hands in her lap.

Catelyn sighed and sat down at the desk in between the two of them.

"You know I'm a Tully by birth, yes?"

"Of course, my lady." Myrcella nodded.

"And you know my Houses words."

"Family, Duty, Honor." Her response was swift and easy. "A bold order as well that has served your family well."

"It has. But I married a Stark and my children may have Tully looks. But they are wolves at heart." Catelyn gave a soft laugh. "I will always do my best to protect my family."

"And my family stands in your way." Myrcella said. "You have no need to worry. I will never betray your family."

"Not even for your own?"

Myrcella took a deep breath and looked into Catelyn's blue eyes. This was a strong woman who sat before her. She'd carried five children and managed to instill in them a deep love for each other. The Stark children had no hatred of each other. Even when Arya and Sansa had fought before the elder girls departure, it was clear they held no contempt for each other and were quick to make up. They bared no ill will towards the others and were always happy to help one another.

"My family has no love for each other." Myrcella finally began, slowly. "Aemon has always hated Aegon and it is no secret that my sister does not think of me fondly. I was only ever close to Lyonel and Jaehaerys, though the latter is far too young to understand what is going on."

"Yet, if your mother sent you a letter asking to come back South or even to help her?"

"I love my mother, I do." Myrcella was surprised by how true that statement was. Even if Cersei could be harsh and neglectful, she still gave Myrcella life and loved her fiercely. She just had a poor way of showing it. "But she decided to call my brother innocent for a crime he committed. Cersei knows that by promising my hand to your son and letting me be fostered here until we wed, she has given away her right to raise me. My life is in your hands and you have shown my nothing but kindness even in the face of a horrible crime. I would be foolish to repay the kindness with deceit and betrayal."

"Then you understand why I cannot allow you to leave Winterfell, much less the North?"

"Only a fool would let me leave the safety of these walls. And you Lady Catelyn are no fool."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages at the start  
> Domeric and Loras: 19  
> Aegon and Jon: 18  
> Robb, Margaery, Daenerys, and Alerie: 17  
> Joanna and Aegon: 16  
> Cyrenna: 15  
> Sansa and Rhaenyra: 14  
> Arya and Tion: 12  
> Myrcella, Lyonel and Bran: 10  
> Ethan and Beron: 8  
> Rickon and Jaehaerys: 6  
> Serra and Geremy: 2  
> Lyanna and Lyle: 10 months


	2. The Royal Targaryens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That ending though, am I right?

Cyrenna hid a knowing smile of amusement as she entered the throne room to find Lyonel and Jaehaerys in some of their finer clothes standing beside their siblings at the feet of the Iron Throne. The young boys were a stark contrast to the eldest the Targaryen siblings, looking so out of place in their very own castle.

Aegon's hair had grown since Winterfell, now falling past his shoulders, but those indigo eyes were just the same as Cyrenna remembered. And they were currently locked onto the swell of her stomach.

She vividly remembered Alerie Tyrell telling her that drawing attention to the fact that she was with child was a foolish venture.

"A lady never brings it to light if she can avoid it. The babe will be born either way and that is the true accomplishment, that you successfully brought life into the world. Not that you are currently creating it," She had said.

Lady Olenna on the other hand said nothing and let Cyrenna do as she pleased.

Rhaenyra had hardly changed, her silver curls falling to her waist and being styled in a similar fashion to that of Cersei's own. Her purple eyes remained as glassy and vacant as ever. And yet her features had softened considerably, allowing a less harsh and more traditionally beautiful quality to shine through.

 _How strange must it be for the elder sister to look as though she is trying to catch up to the beauty of the younger,_ Cyrenna thought.

Then her eyes locked onto Aemon's and it took everything within her to not run him through with the dagger her father gave her.

His silver hair was cut much closer to his head, only a few stray curls breaking free from the gel he'd used to push them back. It was his eyes that angered Cyrenna most. A deep emerald, near the same color as Joanna and Tion's, but with a cruel edge and mischievous gleam. Aemon smirked when they locked eyes and Cyrenna schooled her face into the mask of passivity that few could see past.

She and Margaery knelt, one hand supporting her bump and the other resting gently on her back.

"Rise, Lady Cyrenna and Lady Margaery," Rhaegar called out after but a few moments. "There's no need for us to strain an expectant mother with formalities. After all, she is family."

Cyrenna gave a grateful smile as she stood up with as much grace as she could muster, thankfully not faltering once.

"It is wonderful to be welcomed back into the Red Keep, Your Grace." Cyrenna almost hated how easily she slipped back into the rhythm of King's Landing.

"You and your family are always welcome," Rhaegar said.

_It's hard to believe that lie when my mother's murderer stands feet away from me, having faced no consequences for his actions._

"Both Houses Lannister and Tyrell are grateful, Your Grace."

"And yet, House Lannister has yet to arrive." Rhaegar raised a brow at her and Aemon's smirk only grew. "Your grandfather has already promised that his son would be on his way to King's Landing, yet I've seen no trace of him."

"The journey is likely taking longer than expected, Your Grace," Cyrenna said, her tone placating. "After all, the Riverlands and Reach are both busy with the harvest season. It's rather difficult to travel swiftly through those lands at the moment."

Everyone tactfully ignored the way Aemon rolled his eyes and Cersei pursed her lips.

"Then I pray safe travels to your family."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

* * *

"She's insufferable," Rhaenyra said as she played with the ends of her hair.

Court had adjourned and she was currently in the gardens with Lyonel and Jaehaerys. Aegon and Aemon had been called away by their father, no doubt to discuss Cyrenna.

Gods Rhaenyra hated her cousin.  _Pretty and perfect Cyrenna. With her golden curls and grey eyes and mind sharp as a whip. How dare she act so high and mighty for someone so far beneath me._

"She's our cousin," Lyonel said in a bored tone. "And Ethan seemed pleased to see her."

"Father won't let them actually speak until the feast tonight," Rhaenyra said. "We don't need them speaking in private and plotting our downfall."

"Cyrenna wouldn't do that." Lyonel rolled his eyes. "She's clever, but she doesn't have a death wish. Varys would know the second any treason was discussed."

"That doesn't mean he'd tell us." Rhaenyra stood and began to pace angrily. "Cyrenna is cunning."

"Clever."

Rhaenyra turned sharply and glared at her little brother, fury coursing through her veins. "Clever implies that she isn't entirely self-serving. Cunning is all about ambition and self-preservation. Cyrenna has never thiught of anything other than how to boost herself and appear better than she is."

"She's nice and funny." Jaehaerys' voice was quiet and soft.

For all that the youngest prince came from, there was nothing besides niceness and softness in him. Lyonel doubted there was a mean bone in his body. Which only made the sad reality of their precarious situation all the more unfortunate.

Every chance his parents had, they were trying to turn Jaehaerys against the other. Cersei preaching on how he was her third little lion and how it didn't make him lesser than his dragon siblings. Rhaegar doing everything to endear himself to the young boy who only ever cared for his grandfather, grandmother, and Lyonel and Myrcella.  It wouldn't take much longer before the youngest prince broke and Lyonel feared what would happen when he finally did.

"You haven't spent enough time with her," Rhaenyra scoffed. "I grew up with her. She spent hours following grandfather Tywin and hanging off his every word. She learned fron the best."

"And you didn't?"

Rhaenyra fell quiet and her arms encircled her waist tightly. Her amethyst eyes clear for a rare, fleeting moment before the typical haze entered once more.

"Grandfather had his reasons," her voice was quiet and Lyonel was reminded of just how vulnerable his sister truly was.

Rhaenyra hadn't been gifted with the same wit and fast thinking as Myrcella had been. If anything Rhaenyra was still a young girl in mind. She giggled like the very young ladies in court and played with the ends of her hair until the strands broke and even larger sections fell out because of how hard she tugged.

It was no surprise Tywin favored the granddaughters whose minds matched his. It was a shame the effect it had on Rhaenyra though.

"I have to leave for a fitting." Rhaenyra dropped her arms and glared at Lyonel before storming away.

"She's always angry." Jaehaerys fiddled with his fingers as he spoke.

"Rhaenyra just had a harder time thinking about her feelings," Lyonel said.  _It's hard to form an opinion and identity with Cersei and Rhaegar breathing down her neck at all hours._

"Cella was never angry."

"She's always been good at hiding."

* * *

Myrcella played with Rickon as the boys direwolf, Shaggydog he'd called it, watched over then with careful eyes. Rickon's laughter rang throughout the godswood and Myrcella felt a carefree smile cross her face.

It felt nice to let go and be childish once in a while. She'd been working tirelessly to ensure that no one thought of her as the Targaryen princess, but rather a lady that would one day marry Robb and bear him enough sons to carry on the Stark name. To run with Rickon or climb with Bran or cheer Arya as she and Robb sparred against Theon, it was to be happy and lively in a way she'd never felt before. The cold winds and sharp smells invigorated Myrcella and brought out a wildness she never knew she'd been suppressing.

It wasn't long before Robb found them, Grey Wind by his side, and watched the pair with a look Myrcella had yet to decipher.

"Robb!" Rickon stopped chasing Myrcella in favor of running and hugging Robb's legs. "Are you going to play with us?"

"Maybe another time," Robb said with a smile. "For now, you have lessons to go to."

Rickon pouted and turned to Myrcella. "Can't you make them let me play longer? A princess is higher than a lord."

"It's not up to me, little one." Myrcella tried to hide the tremble of her voice. "If I have to sit through lessons, so do you."

"But your lessons are fun." Rickon turned to Robb once more. "She gets to learn all about Lannisters and all the Targaryen kings."

Myrcella felt Robb's blue eyes lock onto her face and she turned to look at the reflective pool in front of the Heart Tree. Her own green eyes staring back at her.

Robb's tone was careful as he said, "As princess I'm sure she has to learn about her family. But you need to go before mother comes looking after you."

"Fine. But I want to play with Myrcella before supper."

"If your mother and father approve, we'll play again," Myrcella called out, eyes never leaving the pool.

"I can find my way," Rickon said, heading out of the godswood with his small head held high after shoving Robb's arm away.

Shaggydog followed after giving a quick lick to Myrcella's hand.

"You should be heading inside, princess." Robb's voice was closer now, but Myrcella payed no mind as she continued to stare at her reflection. "It'll get cold very soon once the sun sets."

"According to Rickon my dragon blood will keep me warm." Myrcella hid a cruel laugh at the thought.

"There are times I forget you're a Targaryen and not a Lannister." She could feel his eyes on her back.

"A pity they don't last longer."

"Is ought amiss?"

"No need for such formalities, my lord. After all, I am your hostage." Myrcella let this cruel laugh slip past her lips, her arms wrapping about her waist.

"You're not a hostage, princess."

"No? You know what my grandfather was. What my brother did." Myrcella could feel her voice hardening, but she didn't care. It was a mistake to let her emotions slip through. But she was struggling to keep it all inside.

"Aye. Cruel men who've done cruel things."

"Treason."

"You spoke it first."

Myrcella smiled sadly as she nodded. "I suppose I did."

Silence feel over them, but it wasn't the kind that choked her and made her feel small. It was almost comfortable. She hardly heard Robb move to stand beside her, but she felt it. Felt the warmth he gave off and the security of someone bigger than her sheilding her back. Felt a strange comfort frkm and action that previously sent panic and fear up her spine.

"So what does it?"

"Pardon, princess?"

Myrcella turned and looked up at Robb, emerald meeting sapphire. "What reminds you that I'm not Lannister?"

Robb stares at her with the same look from before. The same look she can't name. "I'm not sure, princess."

"Don't call me princess." Myrcella's voice softened for the first time that day as she turned back to stare at the reflective pool.

"What would you prefer me to call you then?" Robb's eyes found hers in the reflection and for once, Myrcella didn't turn away.

"My name might be a good start."

"Only if you call me Robb."

A small smile graced her lips. "Robb it is then. I supposed I should grow used to it. If war doesn't completely break out, we may still marry."

Robb's face became closed off and he gave a curt nod.

"Aye. And if war breaks out-"

"You have every right to free my head from my shoulders," Myrcella aimed for a light tone, though she knew it wasn't going to land well. "It's what my parents would do."

Robb gently brushed her elbow with his hand, her arms tightened about her waist.

"I'm sure they wouldn't do such a thing."

Myrcella turned to look Robb in the eye.

"You don't know them."

With that she turned and walked out of the godswood, aching for the raging fire in her chambers and the soft bed. She didn't losten as Robb tried to call after her. The cold was seeping into her bones.

* * *

Daenerys watched as Jon gently placed Serra and Geremy in front of their children.

The twins were hardly a year old and yet there was still so much Stark in them. If not for their green eyes, Dany would doubt they had Lannister blood at all. Even beside Serra and Geremy, the last of Lyanna and Jaime's children, they looked more Stark.

"Tiny." Serra pouted up at her big brother.

"You were that small not too long ago." Jon smiled softly at her.

"No. Not tiny," Serra said with her firm pout in place.

"Smaller than them."

Geremy quickly hugged his sister when she glared at Jon and turned away. "But bigger now," Geremy added.

Dany smiled, though when her amethyst eyes landed of little Lyanna pushing herself to sit up her heart broke. Even with Jon, Serra, and Geremy cheering her daughter and little Lyle smiling at her with that wide, gummy smile - her heart felt torn in two. Her little twins, the ones she carried for months and delivered in hopes of mending what once was between her and the family she married into, were well loved. But she still felt an outcast.

_Casterly Rock used to feel more like home than the Red Keep. What has happened?_

"Princess."

Dany turned and looked up to see Brandon Stark standing beside her, grey eyes set firmly on his eldest nephew.

"Lord Brandon."

"Just Brandon." He looked at her for a moment and she felt the wildness radiating off of him before he turned away again. "I'm told I should call you Dany."

"If you wish to."

"What I wish doesn't matter." Brandon jerked his head to the side before walking away.

Dany didn't waste a moment in following him.

"My sister is dead. Her murderer evaded justice. Her youngest will have no memory of her. Her grandchildren will mever know her. Is this what the great Lyanna Stark was meant to be?"

"Lyanna loved her children," Dany said.

She could still see Lyanna laughing as she played with her children in the gardens on sunny days. How she would hold Cyrenna during thunderstorms and calm her. How she fiercely cared for each child she carried, even the one she lost.

"Aye. And I remember once, many years ago, when she vowed to never marry and have children." Brandon laughed, a deep booming laugh the Dany felt in her bones. "Said she'd join the Night's Watch. Benjen even vowed to join her if she did go."

"I'm sure she would've been happy there." Dany had never felt more out of place than beside this Northern man.

He may have spent a good number of years in Dorne with his wife and daughter, but everything about him screamed Northern.

"It doesn't matter if she would've been or not." Brandon stopped and turned to her, casting a large shadow over her. "I'll tell you what does matter; Tywin Lannister is the only thing keeping your brother and his children from declaring war on my sisters children and vice versa. But what happens when he's gone? Who's there to keep me from trying to kill the king?"

Dany watched as he took several steps back.

"War is coming and none of us can stop it. Tyrion and Cyrenna are free to try, but it won't matter. I'll be fighting and killing. So will Jaime and so will Jon. Where does that leave you?"

"Protecting my family."

"Which family? The ones on the Throne or the ones who will be hiding here?" His voice took on a rougher way of speaking, almost sounding like a growl as he continued. "Benjen already has plans for when all seven hells break loose. I suggest you plan for what you'll do. I'm willing to do a lot of things for my family. But I won't sacrifice any of then for a Targaryen."

"You won't have to." Dany stood taller, feeling more certain. "I loved Lyanna like I love my mother. She deserved better than what she got. If it comes down to it, I will gladly sacrufuce myself for any of her children."

"Good." Brandon glared once more. "I can't afford to lose any more family."

With that Brandon left and Daenerys turned back to go see her children. She couldn't hide behind her fear anymore. Casterly Rock once felt like home and she would make it feel like home once more. She was Daenerys Targaryen and she would not be frightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless plug to my tumblr if you ever want to rant about this story there or just how GoT ended in general
> 
> Musicaldisneymess


	3. A Forgotten Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late wait, but I have an excuse beyond writer's block this time. I'm going to Disneyland in September and have been crazy busy planning that trip. But this story is not abandoned, thus another chapter arrives

Rhaella had called Cyrenna to her solar, wishing to see the young girl free from any outside influence. She hadn't seen her since Winterfell, the Starks and Lannisters burning with hatred that rivaled that of her own House.

_Fire and Blood indeed. But a wolf pack or a lion pride threatened was perhaps even more dangerous than a dragon's rage. They just didn't have to power to unleash it on the masses._

Her head popped up when the door opened and Cyrenna walked inside.

The young woman wore a dress of teal and gold with red embroidery on the sleeves. Her golden curls styled similar to the simple Northern braids Lyanna would often wear. There was little subtlety in how Cyrenna styled herself these days. Though, knowing the girl, Rhaella had the distinct feeling that Cyrenna was beginning to care less in this small aspect.

Rhaella stood and welcomed Cyrenna with a tight hug.

"You look absolutely stunning, sweetling." Rhaella said. "Motherhood looks as though it will suit you."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Cyrenna waited until Rhaella gave her a nod to sit and when she did an audible sigh left her lips.

"Trouble dear?"

"Only mild discomfort." Cyrenna put on a smile as she forced herself to sit upright. "Other women have dealt with far more troublesome times carrying their babes. I can endure mild back pains and swelling."

Rhaella's smile dropped and she nodded lightly, thinking of her own troubles with having children.

"I suppose you're not as happy as your last visit to the capital," Rhaella sighed. Mayhaps a change in topic would help Cyrenna relax.

"I doubt any Lannister is too happy since our last time here," Cyrenna nodded. "But, there's family here."

"Ethan was particularly happy to hear you would be here for the wedding." Rhaella smiled as she thought of the little boy with dark curls and green-gray eyes.

"I've yet to see him properly since I've arrived." Cyrenna finally looked Rhaella in the eyes. "I would've requested he dine with us for our midday meal, but Rhaegar assured me he wouldn't be available to speak until the feast tonight."

"I'm certain you two shall be inseparable for the duration of your stay."

"It'll be nice to spend time with him." Cyrenna's eyes lightened as she thought of hat little brother. "He's so young and I've missed spending time with him."

"It's good to see siblings who care so much for each other. It's a rare thing these days."

Cyrenna went quiet for another moment before softly saying, "Mother always wanted us to love and care for each other."

"She did a wonderful job then." Rhaella placed her hand on top of Cyrenna's and realized just how young the girl was. She'd spent such a long time watching the little lady of Lannister grow in a place far from her home, only to have her return for what would no doubt be an indefinite stay.

Rhaella was about to say something else when a servant opened the door.

"Sorry, m'ladies. But the prince wishes to have a word."

Cyrenna tensed and Rhaella would've sent whichever grandson it was away, if Viserys had not entered through the doorway instead.

"Hello mother."

"Viserys." Rhaella stood and rushed to hug her son. "Each time I see you, you've grown."

"These things do tend to happen." Viserys laughed, letting go of his mother and turning his gaze to Cyrenna. "Lady Tyrell."

"It's good to see you once more, Prince Viserys." Cyrenna nodded at him.

"How boring title are," Viserys said as he took a seat at the table. "I thought we were beyond that point, Cyrenna."

"Things have changed since we last saw one another." Cyrenna fought back a smirk at the prince's antics. He'd always been hyper when they were younger. Part of her wished he'd be able to conceal that energy better, but a stronger part told her the energy would only be redirected in other ways.

"Aye. I mourned Lyanna as well when the news reached Sunspear." He trained his eyed to the table before clearing his throat and adding, "She was always kind to me when I squired for your father."

"Mother did enjoy your company."

There was a moment of silence before Viserys said, "As glad as I am to see you, please take no ill will towards not wife if age decides not to visit you. Martells and Tyrells do not mix."

"I've always been a good mediator between feuding houses."

"Good to know your skillset has not been misused."

Rhaella watched carefully as the two continued their banter and wished with all her heart that for once, for even one single minute, her grandchildren and Tywin's could get along. The flicker of hope was almost extinguished in recent months, but it wasn't out completely. There was still some in her heart.

But fate never had been kind to her.


End file.
